


Bourbon Sweet

by OnTheTurningAway



Series: Mating Games - 2014 [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, In Vino Veritas, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheTurningAway/pseuds/OnTheTurningAway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been here before, dancing around what's been building between them for months. Derek aches to lean in and see if bourbon tastes just as smooth on Chris' tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bourbon Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sapphirescribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirescribe/gifts), [tuesdaymidnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaymidnight/gifts), [donnersun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnersun/gifts).



> This is an expanded version of my entry for the sixth Mating Games challenge, Fandom Tropes. I wrote it for the girls mentioned above, who have fallen in love with Chris/Derek as much as I have and indulge me in my never-ending need to talk about their epic love on Twitter. <333
> 
> This also fills the "In Vino Veritas/drunkfic" square on my [Trope Bingo](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) card.
> 
> Many thanks to [ArcadianMaggie](archiveofourown.org/users/ArcadianMaggie) for looking over the original version. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

* * *

"Shit, sorry," Chris says as the tumbler slips from his grasp. Bourbon splashes on Derek's fingers when he catches it before it falls.

Derek's inhales deeply. He's come to love the smoky, bitter scent of Chris' favorite drink. It's familiar, a balm to soothe old wounds that may never fully heal, a reminder of how far they've come.

Derek takes a sip, lets the sharp burn of alcohol fade until earthy sweetness is all that remains. It's soft and thick on his tongue, like liquid velvet.

"I think," he says, putting the glass on the coffee table, "it's time for me to go."

"Not yet," Chris says, reaching for his hand. He gives Derek a soft, lazy smile, blinking sleepily at him. 

Chris' expression is open, trusting, the antithesis of _Argent_. Derek's breath catches in his throat.

It's well past midnight and they've been here for hours, on Chris' couch in front of the fire. Each time Chris returned from refreshing his drink, he sat a little closer and now Derek can feel the heat coming off of his body in the small space between them.

Derek lets himself be caught by Chris' clumsy attempt to stop him from leaving. The truth is, he doesn't want to go. He'd rather soak up the warmth and affection that often radiates from Chris after a few drinks.

"Stay with me," Chris says, eyes focused on the hand around Derek's wrist.

Derek knows Chris can feel the uptick in his pulse when he tightens his fingers and tugs Derek closer. They're shoulder to shoulder and the scent of alcohol fills the small pocket of air between them on every exhale.

They've been here before, dancing around what's been building between them for months. Derek aches to lean in and see if bourbon tastes just as smooth on Chris' tongue.

Spending time at Chris' began as a way to de-brief when they were reluctant allies but now… Everything changed after Allison's death. Derek knew the pain and devastation that kind of loss could bring, how easy it was to focus on anger and vengeance instead of grieving and trying to heal.

Derek couldn't let Chris go through it alone.

Despite their histories, Chris and Derek's friendship is solid now, deeply intimate in a way that can only come from shared grief, anger and tears. It hasn't always been easy, but any doubt Derek had about the longevity of their relationship was put to rest when Chris chose Derek's life over his own sister's.

But a Hale and an Argent?

It's a fool's dream. Derek knows that better than anyone, and no amount of time spent in the quiet comfort of Chris' living room could ever change that.

Derek takes a moment to savor their closeness, then frees his hand from Chris' grasp.

When Derek gets up from the couch, Chris huffs and falls back against the pillows at an awkward angle, his eyes already drooping shut. Derek straightens out Chris' body, lifts his feet up onto the couch and covers him with a nearby throw.

Moments later, Chris' breathing slows to a gentle rhythm and Derek can't resist rubbing a thumb across his temple in a gentle caress.

"Goodnight, Chris," he says quietly.

"'Night. Love you," Chris murmurs in response.

Derek freezes. 

At such close proximity, he doesn't need to rely on his exceptional hearing to know what Chris said, and Chris' sharp intake of breath only serves as confirmation.

When Chris meets Derek's gaze, he looks startled by his own admission, but his eyes are clear and fever-bright in the waning firelight.

"I—" Chris clears his throat and pushes himself upright. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way."

Derek's shoulders sag and he turns to leave. Hearing what he already knows to be true doesn't lessen the blow.

"Wait," Chris says. He approaches Derek with careful hesitance, like the hunter he was raised to be.

Derek doesn't move an inch.

Chris' heart beats steady and true when he slides a hand around Derek's neck. His eyes are a shocking blue and Derek thinks the color might rival that of his own when he shifts.

The first press of their lips is gentle, searching, and nothing like Derek imagined kissing Chris would be. He senses the tension in Chris' body and for the first time, Derek wonders if Chris has been holding back for _his_ sake.

Derek is tired of the uncertainty.

An out is the last thing he wants.

He pushes his tongue inside Chris' mouth, moaning when Chris grabs the back of his head and angles for control of their kisses. Chris bites at Derek's lips and slips a warm hand under his shirt. His rough fingertips feel like fire where they drag against Derek's skin.

They tear at each other's clothing, slowing only to touch bits of bare skin as they're revealed, then stumble naked toward the couch. Chris pushes Derek down into the cushions and then settles between Derek's legs. His eyes darken as they roam over Derek's body, and a low growl builds in Derek's chest when Chris starts stroking his own dick.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Derek reaches for Chris. He's wanted this for months and he needs Chris' hands, mouth, _anything_ on him.

"I didn't want to fuck this up." Chris spits into his palm and takes both of their cocks in his fist, jerking them slowly as Derek begins to harden.

Derek gasps at the sensation, the perfect, too-dry friction of skin on skin. "And now?"

"Now that I know I can have you—" Chris leans forward and kisses him, all wet heat and bourbon-sweet tongue. "I want to take my time with you."

A rush of heat floods Derek's body.

"Want to take you to my bed, get my mouth on you," Chris whispers against Derek's lips.

Their bodies are so close, breaths mingling, and when Derek's hips jerk involuntarily, the wet tip of his dick bumps against Chris' stomach.

"I'll spread you open, make you wet." Chris teases the head of Derek's dick with his calloused thumb. "Put my fingers in you."

Derek _wants_. Wants Chris to lick him open until he's stretched and dripping wet, to hear Chris' gravelly voice in his ear, teeth at Derek's throat, while Derek rides his fingers.

"Fuck," he whispers, word drawn out like a plea. Derek never thought they could have this; he's shaking with how badly he needs it.

Chris hums in agreement. "When you're ready, that too."

Derek's back arches up off the couch and he groans, deep and needy.

It's been a long time since I fucked a man, Derek," Chris says, hand moving faster. "I can't wait to get inside of you."

One more twist of Chris' wrist and Derek is gone. He shudders through it, ass clenching around nothing as he imagines Chris pushing into him.

Chris lowers himself onto Derek, trapping their cocks between their bodies, and latches his mouth onto Derek's neck. His dick slides through the mess on Derek's stomach until he finds his own release minutes later.

Derek is sticky, covered in sweat and come, but when Chris rolls off to the side, instinct urges him to keep their combined scents with him for as long as possible. He rubs their come into his skin as they catch their breath, then pulls the blanket over them. Cocooned in darkness, they kiss until the fire is down to embers.

"I meant it." Chris says, nuzzling his stubbled cheek against Derek's. "All of it."

Derek shivers but he's anything but cold.

"I know," he answers. "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr and [twitter](https://twitter.com/otta_ff). Come say hi!


End file.
